


Blue Plate Special

by st_aurafina



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Flirting, Hannibal is a Cannibal, I'd still eat there tbh, Implied Cannibalism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 06:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12163758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_aurafina/pseuds/st_aurafina
Summary: Will was hesitant to try the newest café in town, but circumstances were not on his side.





	Blue Plate Special

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosecake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/gifts).



Will only went to the new café because there were vegan protestors mobbing around his regular lunchtime haunt. He approached the door on the side street with trepidation. He hated upsetting his routine and he hated trying new places for lunch, which was why he'd doggedly stuck with Oinkadoodlemoo through the years, despite the uninspired food, despite the desperately unfunny name. 

Today, though, his classes had dragged endlessly though a grey morning, and his head was thumping. He just couldn't stand eating a limp sandwich while students chanted "MEAT IS MURDER!" at full volume. Some of them were his students; their time would be better put towards actually studying. 

This new café had opened in the summer, when the population of this college town shrunk to ten percent of what it was during semester. Professor McAllister had told Will it was a good, quiet place to work, though the tea wasn't up to his standard. That had been before the man went missing.

This was obviously the place, though, because on the tidy noticeboard at the counter was a poster advertising the posthumous publication of McAllister's novel. He'd probably worked on it at one of these polished wooden tables before he disappeared. They thought he'd gone home to Scotland, but as it eventuated, he had gotten lost on a hike. Police expected his body would show up at the next thaw, if the bears hadn't got to him. 

The place was comfortingly dark, with thick wood-panelled walls that absorbed the sounds of traffic and the distant chanting of the mob. Will took a seat with his back to the window, and forced his eyes to focus on the board above the counter. The chalked cursive blurred, and he felt a wave of nausea at the thought of food. 

There was a soft noise, and then the rich smell of coffee under his nose. The owner of the café had quietly slid an espresso onto the table. Will looked at it, then up at the man with an apron wrapped neatly around his waist. The owner gave him a small, swift smile and pushed the sugar towards him. 

"Caffeine is good for tension headache," he said, with a faint accent. "And sugar rarely hurts." 

Will nodded his thanks, and spooned sugar in generously. One sip of the thick, black coffee and he could immediately focus on the board. "What's in the Highland Special?" he asked. "I know I should eat, but I don't really feel up to it." 

The owner smiled, this time a cheerful expression that stayed in place. Will decided he liked the way it creased the corners of the man's eyes. "A good choice for an unsettled stomach," he said. "And a good dish for locavores: all locally sourced foods. Shall I make it up for you?" 

Will nodded, relieved that a decision had been made. Perhaps this new place was going to work out. 

When it arrived, the Highland Special seemed to be a kind of ploughman's lunch: a range of cured meats, crusty bread, cheese and pickles. Will ate, slowly at first then, as his headache shifted, with increasing enthusiasm. It was simple but very good: the meat spiced without overwhelming his palate, the bread chewy and flavoursome, the cheese tangy, fresh, and sweet. He ate as much as he could and wished he dared to finish the plate but his stomach was sure to rebel if he did. 

The owner whisked the plate away and replaced it with another coffee, which chased the last of Will's headache away. When it was time to leave he felt closer to enthusiastic about afternoon lectures than he had in a long while. 

At the counter, the owner passed him a paper bag. "Your leftovers. The Highland Special makes an excellent sandwich," he said. 

Will took the parcel, surprised and pleased, then turned to the door. He could hear the faint but angry shouting from the protest. He looked back at the counter. "Do you worry that they're going to protest here next?" 

The owner smiled. "Actually, I've been thinking of adding something one hundred percent vegan to the menu. I should start hunting out ingredients."


End file.
